


The Pillow that You Dream On

by BuddyLove



Category: Martin and Lewis
Genre: Dream Sex, M/M, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-23 00:11:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11391312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddyLove/pseuds/BuddyLove
Summary: In memory of Dean Martin, the King of CoolHappy 100th  Birthday!Dean Dreams about his new partner and the things he'd like to do with him.But will he ever have the courage to confess his secret longings to Jerry?





	The Pillow that You Dream On

**Author's Note:**

> Just a nice, short fluffy piece set in September of 1946. Hope you all like it :)

In memory of Dean Martin, the King of Cool  
6/7/1917-12/25/1995  
Happy 100th Birthday!  
6/7/2017

 

September 7th 1946  
They had been doing their act for about a month and half now, and things are going better than he had hoped.  
He has a lot of fun with Jerry, laughing and playing around on stage.  
And off stage, too.  
Jerry is an unstoppable ball of energy, but Dean loves it.  
He loves the crazy things the kid does.  
It seems like there is just about nothing Jerry won’t try at least once.

It’s been another long day and all he wants to do is lay down and sleep.  
But the kid is surprisingly still hyper and talkative.  
“God, I can’t get over it! They ate it up, didn’t they, Paul?”   
Jerry rambles as Dean flops onto the bed, clearly exhausted.  
“They sure did, pally.” Dean replies in a half yawn.

 

Jerry noted his partner’s sleepiness and felt a pang of regret.  
This was how things always went with them.  
By the time they get back to the hotel room Dean is too tired to do anything but sleep.  
Jerry is still wide awake and a little jittery.  
He does not want to sleep.  
He wants to play.  
He is pretty sure there is still someplace open at this time of night.  
He wants to go out and drink and maybe, just maybe, get laid.  
He’s been feeling sexually frustrated lately and he wants to get it out of his system.   
And standing there, watching Dean peel off his clothing, was not helping.

He does not allow himself to articulate those feelings.  
Only feel them as general frustration.  
What he wants now is some booze, a dame and maybe a chocolate malted before he goes beddy-bye.  
“Hey, Paul, I can see that you’re tired. Maybe I should just head on out and let you get some sleep…”  
Dean’s eyes pop open.  
Panic spikes sending an instant dose of adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream.  
He bolts up, giving the kid a worried look.  
“Not tonight, kid. You know I worry about you when you’re out on your own this late.”  
Dean says, looking genuinely concerned.

 

It’s touching.  
And also frustrating.  
He’s horny and he has not made it with a woman in about a month now.  
He’s getting hot under the collar and he needs to cool down.  
Badly.  
“Paul…while I appreciate your concern for me, I am not a kid. I can handle myself.”  
Dean has to bite back a scoff.

Like hell he can.  
The kid can barely handle more than three ounces of bourbon.  
Let alone a bar room brawl.   
And what did he think would happen to him if one of the guys recognized him?  
If they saw him and thought: ‘Hey, there’s that kid who dresses up like a dame!’  
There were plenty of fellas who would not mind a piece of that action.  
Dean included.

“Come on, Jer! I know you ain’t a kid, but you are my partner and I don’t wanna wake up tomorrow   
and find out you got yourself shot by some mobster like Lucky Luciano   
'just cus you told him he had a face that not even his mother would love.”  
Jerry can’t help but laugh at that.  
Still…  
Dean was being serious.  
Maybe he could put off his tail chasing for some other, more convenient night.  
Maybe one where Dean would be willing to paint the town with him.

“Alright, Paul, alright. I didn’t know you felt that strongly about it.” Jerry says, giving in.  
He starts to peel off his own clothing and heads for the bathroom.  
Dean considers it.  
He likes the kid and he feels bad for being too tired to chase him from night club to night club.  
He also feels bad about a dozen other things that race through his mind when is this tiered.   
Like how he tends to stare at Jerry when the kid is in drag.  
It feels much the same as the way he looks at some of the girls who swoon when he sings.  
And if it looks anything like that, than it concerns him.

There are some things about himself that he does not want anyone else to know.  
And with reason.  
What Jerry and him have going is looking like a good thing.  
He does not want to mess it up just because his dick gets hard when he sees Jerry in a dress.  
That would be impolitic.  
The kid had the right idea.  
The two of them needed to go out tomorrow night and get laid.  
Before he did something foolish.

Jerry is out of the bathroom and wearing his pajamas.  
Dean is laying on his back, half asleep when Jerry climbs into bed beside him.  
“Night, Paul.” Jerry says, giving Dean a thoughtful smile.  
His eyes are close and he does not see the look of longing in Jerry’s eyes.  
“Night, Jer.” Dean replies sleepily.  
And just like that, Dean is asleep.

\----------------------------

The bus was late.  
He was worried, and nervous and excited.  
And then he saw the kid.  
All that worry dissolves like butter on a stake.  
He steps off the bus and finds he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around the kid and kiss him.  
But of course he refrains.  
He puts out a hand for the kid to shake, but Jerry pulls him into a hug anyway.  
Well, that was just fine.  
It was what he had been wanting anyway.

 

There is a part of him that knows it’s a dream.  
And that too is okay.  
Just ginger-peachy, as a matter of fact.  
Because it’s such a warm, comforting dream.  
Like Mama’s homemade antipasto.  
Or the way the sunshine would spill into his father’s barbershop on afternoons just before closing.   
He finds himself feeling safe and happy the way he has not felt in years.

They are on the stage now, and he is singing.  
“There’s no tomorrow!” He croons, loving the sound of his own voice more than he wants to admit.  
And the kid is leaping and dancing all over the stage.  
Making silly faces and trying to make him laugh.  
And he does, too.  
He laughs like a little kid.  
And what happens next catches him off guard entirely.  
“So kiss me…” Dean sings, and son of a bitch, the kid does just that.  
He turns around, grabs Dean’s chin and kisses him on the mouth.  
And because it is a dream…Dean does not fight it.  
He closes his eyes and lets Jerry take the lead.  
Its somewhere between being soft and gentle, and hard and forceful.  
It wipes out every though in his head save for one.

More.  
I want more.  
Give me more.  
Dean opens his mouth, letting the dream Jerry in.  
He almost can’t believe he is having this dream.  
He never dreams about men.  
Not even about the few men he has fooled around with in the past.  
This is new territory for him.  
Normally, if he was dreaming about some dame, he would take the lead.  
As it is, he wants to pull Jerry down onto the floor and get better acquainted with him.  
But this is kind of fun.  
Letting the kid be dominant, if only for a little while.

In the past when they had performed on stage together, it had always been just for laughs.  
Now it was for bread and butter, and that could be a little frightening at times.  
Mostly because he did not want to think of Jerry in those terms.  
The kid was his pal, his little brother.  
His friend.  
So than what the hell was he doing kissing him like he was his girl?

He did not know and for the moment he did not care, either.  
All he knew was that it was a good dream and he was not eager for it to end.  
He’d had enough of letting the kid kiss him, now it was his turn.  
He pulls the dream Jerry down to the floor with ease.  
He pins him down, his hands on Jerry’s wrists, his legs between Jerry’s.  
The kid smiles and he can feel his heart skip a beat.  
He does not just desire Jerry.  
He is in love with the kid.

“Come on, Paul. Can’t you see? It’s what we both want.” Jerry says.  
And Dean can’t help but wonder if it is true.  
Was that what Jerry…the real Jerry, wanted?  
Was that why the kid had kissed him?  
Because he was in love with Dean?  
It’s a crazy notion, but then again Jerry was a crazy kid.  
Either way it does not matter right now.  
Right now all that mattered was this Jerry lying before him, smiling invitingly up at him. 

He licks his lips expectantly.  
He can’t help but be a sensualist, it’s in his nature.  
All the joking, touching, licking and kissing have finally taken its toll.  
He can’t hold back anymore.   
With his marriage in shambles and having a lack of time and place to fool around with other women,   
he gives in to the insistent temptation that is his young partner, Jerry Lewis.  
He kisses the dream version of his partner in a rather rampant, forceful way.   
If only this wasn’t just a dream.   
If only he could feel like this all the time.  
If only Jerry really was in love with him.   
He pulls away and the dream Jerry is smiling. 

“You know I love you, don’t you, bubby?” The dream Jerry asks.  
Dean’s eyes widen as he realizes that maybe…just maybe…the kid really was in love with him.  
“It’s a shame you’re just a dream, kid. The real Jer is never this reasonable.”  
Jerry laughs.  
“Maybe that’s cus you never kiss him back.”  
Now it’s Dean’s turn to laugh.  
“Yeah, maybe. So, what do you say we fool around, eh, kid?”  
“What do you call what we are doing right now?”  
Dean smiles.

Even in this dream he feels impatient.  
“Waistin’ time.” He says and kisses dream Jerry again.  
This time he runs his hand down between the kid’s legs, caressing his cock.  
The dream Jerry moans, eyes closed, back arching.  
Dean frowns.  
He wants the kid, plain and simple, and if this dream was not a clear indicator of that than nothing was.  
The dream Jerry looked up at him and he felt his heart race.

Dean can feel his cock aching even in the dream.  
He can't hold back.  
He does not wait for this Jerry to give him permission, he undoes the kids belt and removes it.  
He unbuttons the pants next, unzipping them and pulling them down.  
Damn, how he wanted to do this with the real Jerry.  
He runs his hand under the dream Jerry's briefs.   
And finds himself feeling rather surprised at how big the kid is, even in his dream.

The dream Jerry smiles at him.  
“I love you, Paul.” He says, sounding so much like the real deal it’s scary.  
“I love you too, Jerry.” He replies.  
If only he could say that to the real Jerry.  
If only it was not so forbidden for them to be together this way.

He can't go through with this, no matter how much he might want. to  
"Its okay, Paul. Just don't wait forever to tell me how you feel, okay, bubby?"  
Dean smiles.  
"Don't worry, kid, I won't."

He opens his eyes, knowing instinctively that it is afternoon.  
He looks at the space on the bed beside him.  
No Jerry.  
He’s up in a flash, pulse racing, head buzzing.  
He does not look for the kid; their apartment is just a single room.  
He goes to the bathroom and raps on the door.  
No answer.  
Panic stricken he tries to calm down.  
Then he remembers the night before.  
But the kid would not have gone out last night without telling him.  
Would he?  
“Better fucking not have.” Dean mumbles to himself.

 

He decides to dress before tracking down the kid, when the apartment door opens and Jerry strolls in.  
“Oh, good, you’re up! I got tired of sitting here and watching you make those cute kissy faces   
'so I decided to go get us something to eat. Here you go.” Jerry says,   
handing him a brown paper bag from the Jewish deli down the street.  
Dean opens the bag and pulls out a sandwich.   
Pastrami on rye.   
Figures.  
And then Jerry retrieves a good sized styrofoam container from his bag and hands it to him.  
Dean received it graciously, feeling how pleasantly cool it is. 

“What is it?” he asks, taking a bite out of the sandwich.  
“You tell me.” Jerry replies with a smile, taking a bite out of the halavah he bought himself.  
Dean opens the container.  
Spumoni ice cream.  
His favorite.  
Damn it.  
He has to bite his tong to keep from crying.

 

“Thanks, kid. It’s my favorite. But how did you know?”  
Jerry laughs.  
“You’d be surprised what you say in your sleep, bubby.” Jerry replies.  
Dean freezes.  
What did exactly was that supposed to mean?  
Wait...  
Did it mean that...?

“Yeah?” Dean asks, taking the spoon Jerry hands him for the ice cream.  
“Yeah, but that’s okay. We can work all that out as we go along.   
‘Right now let’s just focus on tonight’s show. What do you say, partner?” Jerry asks.  
Dean smiles.  
Maybe the kid knew.  
Maybe he didn’t.

 

“So what did you dream about?” Jerry asked.  
Dean smiled.  
“I dreamt about this skinny kid that kept messing up my singing. But I figured out how to get back at him for it.”  
Jerry laughed.  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah.” Dean chuckled.   
“And what did you come up with?” Jerry asks with a grin, raising one of his eyebrows questioningly.   
Dean smiles.

“Come here, let me whisper it to you.” Dean says.  
Jerry turns his head expectantly.  
And Dean licks his cheek from the jawline to his brow.  
Jerry pulls back, laughing and wiping at his face comically.  
He smiles and says the first thing that comes to his mind.  
“Don’t lick it!”  
Dean laughs.

"I like it, I like it!" Dean says, pulling the kid into a hug.  
Jerry lays his head against Dean’s chest and smiles.  
They stay like that for maybe a minuet before the kid pulls away.  
Dean lets go, not letting on that he might be more than a little reluctant to do so.  
Maybe one day he would have the guts to tell the kid how he felt.  
But for now what they have is enough.

“Hey, Jer?” Dean calls to the kid as he heads for the bathroom.  
“Yeah, Paul?” Jerry asks, looking like he really has to go.  
“Thanks for the ice cream.” Dean says with a warm smile.   
Jerry smiles back at him with equal affection.  
“No problem, partner. You just owe me a chocolate malted next time you’re out.”  
Dean laughs.  
“You got it, kid.” 

THE END.


End file.
